Mr. & Mrs. America, Aftermath

Sherry's brother met the plane, along with Lord Bevington. They were shocked at our appearance.

There were a few more people there. Jo, her mother, my mother, and the kids. She had arrived early, while we were away, and was standing there, looking anxiously through the crowd. It took a second to realize she didn't recognize me.

I walked up to her. "Hello Jo. I can't tell you how good it is to see you guys."

She took in the clothes, the beard, the sling, and my damaged face, and fainted.

I was so surprised I stood there while her mother and mine tried to revive her. Polly charged me.

"What did you say to my Mother?!," she demanded, almost nose to nose with me.

"I told her I missed her, that I missed all of you, and was very happy to see her."

She stood, open mouthed. "Daddy? DADDY!" She was practically screaming, wrapping me up in a tremendous hug, causing pain to radiate out of my wounded arm. Maybe she felt me flinch, because she pulled back, noticing my sling for the first time, and my face.

"DADDY! What happened? Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, baby, and getting better. A truck I was riding in wrecked, and I ended up body surfing sand at forty miles an hour."

All right, a half lie. The truck did wreck, I did slide along the sand. I didn't tell them that the truck wrecked because we were under attack, or that I got hit in the hail of bullets that followed the wreck.

By now Jo had recovered, hugging me on one side, my mother on the other. Jo kept crying and saying "sorry" over and over. Lord Bevington broke us up before we could really talk.

"Dreadfully sorry, but you must let Pete attend to some business first. He should be free in about three hours."

They had to peel Jo off me, and I promised I'd see them as soon as I could.

Thirty minutes later we were sitting around the conference table of our favorite lab, scrolls sitting in their containers on the floor.

"First, let me say how saddened I am at the deaths of our friends. I never thought for one minute you'd ever be that close to danger. My apologies, for risking your lives."

Moshe sighed. "We all knew what could happen, sir. It was a risk worth taking, in our opinion. None of us were forced."

We all nodded agreement. Lord Bevington rubbed his hands together.

"All right then. I must say, well done! Well done indeed. Not only did you retrieve items that may change the way the world may view history, you struck a terrible blow to the confidence of ISIL. Just whose idea was that, anyway?"

"I don't think it was a conscious decision at all, we just went with it when we started talking." Moshe grinned a little as he said it.

"It doesn't matter, my intelligence friends tell me it couldn't have been any better if it had been scripted. We're getting reports of strife between factions, alliances crumbling, some executions for perceived betrayals. The bleedin' sods are almost wetting themselves. Raids have been stepped up, some that were months in the planning, and as every target fell, the mark "S7" was placed prominently. The enemy now thinks there are hundreds of you. I'm glad you had the wisdom to keep your faces covered. I doubt they have the ability or resources to use voice recognition hardware, so you should be safe."

He stopped smiling. "You know, you may never, ever speak of this except with each other. If they ever find out who you are, your lives would be in constant danger. Their honor would demand your deaths. Right now they think they were faced with an international group of highly trained commandos. If they ever found out you were just a bunch of scholars, their rage would know no bounds. So remain silent, and let the myths and legends grow. I assume you all want to continue your work? You will never, ever, go out again as you have before, it would be just too dangerous, do you understand?"

We all nodded assent, I think collectively our days of adventure were done.

"Very good. Now, you have a month of vacation, at full salary. Take it. Rest. Relax. If there is somewhere special you'd like to go, say the word, and it will happen, at no personal expense. Even though they don't know who you are, you have the gratitude of a few nations and a lot of individuals. Enjoy."

He stood, the meeting over. We talked, hugged, and went our separate ways. Moshe was going back to Israel to be with family. Sherry was taking Fatima to America, somewhere she had always wanted to go. She even wanted to go to one of the Disney theme parks.

And me? I was going to see if I had a marriage left. That wasn't quite right. My old marriage was over. Dead as Emil and Anatoli. No, I was going to see if I could forge a new marriage, one built on honesty. If I couldn't, if she couldn't see the difference, then I'd file the paperwork.

...

After my meeting, I went back to my flat, looking forward to a long bath and normal clothes. I must have soaked for an hour, figuratively washing the sand of the desert off me. I wrapped myself in my towel, eyeing my reflection in the mirror. My hair was longer than it had ever been, and my untrimmed beard seemed to run across my face with no apparent pattern. I still hadn't decided whether to shave or trim it into something more reasonable. I smiled grimly, looking at the mess my face still was. I wondered, would the scars be noticeable? The small bullet hole was still angry and red looking, but healing nicely. I smiled even wider, thinking about the conversation I'd had just before I left the lab.

Lord Bevington was waiting, looking distinctly uncomfortable. "Pete, may I ask you a few questions?"

I looked around, found a small bench under some trees, and motioned for him to sit. One of the things that attracted me all those years ago was how scenic the place was, looking just like a branch of an old, venerated, English college should.

"Again, let me say say how happy I am that you're all right. I got a call the other day from my friends in government. They had gotten a call from our American cousins, who asked some interesting questions, mostly about you. Seems you had picked up someone on the way out of your little dustup, but he wasn't with you after the first two days you were safely away. Care to comment?"

"He was an American. They were going to behead him. We decided to take him along when we left the country, and he stayed with us a couple of days, before we parted ways. I never asked, but I don't think he was with any sanctioned group operating in the area."

"Ah. So then, you would have no knowledge of a van pulling up to the U.S. Embassy in Cairo, and dropping off a hooded, bound man on the street. with the word 'American' on a sign attached to his back? A man with, ah, parts missing?"

I was glad now that Moshe hadn't told me where they were going to send Mike, only that they would get him to a safe place. I could look Teddy in the eye with 'plausible deniability'. "I wouldn't know anything about that, sir."

He looked at me, a slight smile playing on his lips.

"So then, you wouldn't know anything about a package that was delivered to your embassy in London, through diplomatic courier from Dubai, two days ago. A package that was addressed to your father, who was still here, awaiting your return? A package, that upon opening, made him physically ill. He left abruptly, telling your mother his responsibilities called him away. She found that quite odd, since his presence here was a courtesy, and that the briefs he brought was supposed to be his last official act before retiring."

I couldn't help it as a small grin flickered around my mouth. By the time we had gotten to a city with enough size to even attempt reattachment surgery, it was far too late. Moshe sent Mike on his merry way, and I still had his hand. I was just going to toss it, when it hit me. I knew just the man who would appreciate what the hand meant. So I had asked my friends for a small favor, and they packaged the hand in enough dry ice to make the journey, and sent it on it's way. Bet the guys who X-rayed the package as a matter of course freaked. I'm sure fingerprints and DNA were done. I would have really loved to have been a fly on the wall when the report came back and my father realized who it belonged to. I turned to Lord Bevington with a bland face.

"You know by now that I'm estranged from my father, and not privy to his business. What he receives in the mail is none of my business or concern. Are we done here, sir?"

He was grinning openly now. "Quite. I suspect, dear boy, that there are going to be people, some very close to you, who are about to discover they never really knew you at all. These little adventures have changed you, old son. My before mentioned friends would like to take you out for a pint, at your leisure, and some woman named Madeline, from your side of the pond, sends you her regards and a message. As soon as her schedule permits it, she would love to speak to you. She said she'd call. Off you go, lad. I'm sure you're anxious to see your wife after all these months. I expect you back in a month, rested, restored, and ready to go."

Jo wasn't there when I finally got to my flat, so I took advantage of the time to clean up. I settled on just trimming my beard a little, and to wait for the damage on my face to heal. I'd see a barber later, neaten my beard, and trim my hair back to a more suitable length. I opened the door and found Jo sitting on the sofa. She must have entered while I was in the bath. For the first time she saw the bullet hole in my arm.

Paleness seemed to be her new skin tone. I stood, saying nothing, as she rose and came to me, slowly raising her hand to my arm, then my face. "Does it hurt?'

"Not as much as it did. I should be back to normal in no time."

"Can I ask how it happened?"

"You can, but I signed some papers to take this job, and the National Secrets Acts binds me to say nothing."

She tried a different tact. "Where were you? I couldn't wait three weeks, honey. I couldn't wait another day. I could tell by the emails and the tone of your voice when we spoke that I was losing you. I can't bear the thought. Please, honey, don't leave me."

She was almost wailing by then. Something had changed in me, something I wasn't sure I liked and it came surging out of me.

"Why? Why would it matter? Is your need to control someone distressing you? Afraid I was turning into a man you couldn't handle?"

She flinched back like I had slapped her.

"I can't talk about where I've been, but I can tell you I've met some really interesting people in my travels. This last trip, I met a ghost from my past, a little birdie that sang an interesting tune about you. You really married me because you could control me? What about Alan Jeffers? Did you pull back from fucking him because you were afraid he'd be too much man for you? Safe little comfortable, trusting me just wasn't enough for you anymore? I'm sure in that lawyerly mind you had already rationalized that a little on the side would do us both good."

"Speaking of a little on the side, I remember well how much you enjoyed our sex lives. How are you holding up in this dry spell? Or are you drinking from another well? "

"How did you...nobody knew all...please, honey. I'll tell you everything later. And no! There's been no one else, and there never will be! I promise. But right now I think we should focus on our marriage. I..."

I broke in on her. No way was I going to let his slide, give her time to come up with evasions and half truths. This was our literal showdown at high noon. May the fastest shot win.

"Our marriage? I need to tell you something, before I left, I talked to the Dean of the law school, and showed him the letter. You know he's still licensed, right? He told me if I could get you to admit on tape that the letter was true, there was a very good chance the marriage could be annulled, even after all these years. False pretenses and other things I don't really remember now. We wouldn't have to worry about the divorce, because legally we were never married. No mess, no fuss. What do you think?"

It was too much for her. She screamed and ran out the door.

...

Well, I thought that went well. I dressed, called the kids, and set a dinner date at the best restaurant in this small town, away from the academics and college staff.

"Will Mom be there?"

"I don't know, Jess, she didn't really say anything to me before she left. Let her know, I'd really like to have us all together, at least one more time."

Her phone was on speaker, and Polly jumped in. "What do you mean, Dad? One more time?"

"Don't read anything in to what I said. What I meant is that I'm staying here, for at least another six months, until my sabbatical is over. I may stay longer, depending on the time it takes my team to decipher some of the scrolls. I'll tell you more at dinner."

The restaurant was excellent, good ambiance, great food, excellent wine. I had arranged to have a small section reserved for just us, away from the general patrons.

Josh was talking about the beauty of the local college population, and maybe he needed to spend some time here, to "round out his education". I just grinned, remembering what a horn dog I had been in school, before I met Jo, and told him I'd check in to it.

Jo was there, in a dress I'd never seen before, that was demure but enticing, hugging her slender frame, showing just a hint of cleavage, the hem short enough for me to remember how I'd always thought she had the greatest legs in our circle of friends. Even now, at 44, she was hot enough to gather looks from other diners.

She was saying very little, letting the kids carry the conversation. I think she was afraid of saying the wrong thing, and triggering an explosion.

The kids, especially Polly, couldn't get over my appearance. The little field trips, with the exercise and hurried meals, had left me lean, seventeen pounds lighter, and what was left was all muscle. I wasn't wearing my sling, but I had to be careful how I moved my left arm.

"What's wrong with your arm?"

I grinned at Josh. "Nothing serious. Like I said, body surfing sand is not a pleasant experience. I'm afraid I'll look the worse for wear for a few more weeks." I rubbed my face, the road rash was healing, but itched like mad. We'd all seen a doctor before we came back. Moshe and Fatima would have no scars, except emotional, although Fatima was scheduled to go into counseling, to deal with the trauma of her rape. The doctor told me the damage to my cheek was too far gone to fix without cosmetic surgery, even though Sherry had done a decent job sewing me up. Heck, I wasn't that attractive to start with, so I was just going to leave it.

I knew it was killing them, so I told them enough about my work to satisfy them, explaining that the stuff we'd brought out of the area would keep researchers going for years, and some history might just end up being rewritten. As I talked, my passion for what we had been doing became evident. When I stopped, they were stunned into silence.

"Wow! Dad, will we be reading about you in the papers, are you gonna be famous?"

"Probably not, Jess. Guys like us tend to blend into the background."

"Well that isn't fair!"

"Yes it is, Polly. In the end, no one will care how the information came to light, just that it exists at all will be enough."

Jo was still not talking much, but seemed comfortable now, enjoying the flow of the conversation.

"Nonetheless, we're all very, very proud of you."

The kids chimed in, echoing what Jo had said. Josh grinned, a gleam in his eye.

"You know, Dad, in all your travels, you could have at least picked up a few gifts. I wouldn't have minded my very own belly dancer."

"Sorry, son, she was just too big to put in the suitcase. But that being said..."

I picked up the small bag I'd brought along. "I have a few early Christmas presents, a few trinkets I thought you might like."

I gave Josh a curved dagger, at least three hundred years old, patterned after the Ismali assassin daggers of the area a thousand years before. The steel was excellent quality, the handle real elephant ivory, the scabbard heavily tooled leather. I'd picked it up on our second trip, getting it for a good price, giving the trader enough to live on for a year. I carried it in the small of my back every trip afterwards. He was stunned.

On our very first trip, I found a small wooden cask in a cave. The cave was completely empty, having been looted years or centuries before, and the only reason the cask was still there was because it had been mudded over, and the earthquake had broken the seal. I gave it to Said, because we weren't interested in anything but scrolls. I'd assumed he'd given it to the local leaders.

After we got back, he produced it one night, placed it on the table, and we broke the lock. It was about fifteen inches long, twelve deep, and twelve wide. We were so stunned when we flipped the lid up we just sat there.

It was filled to the brim with jewels. Emeralds, mostly, a lot of rubies, some very large sapphires, and about three dozen diamonds, Some were finished, but most were uncut. Immediately closing it, we placed it in our safe, and left a message for Lord Bevington to see us as early as possible.

He stopped by the next day, thinking we'd discovered something in the scrolls we'd found. When we sat the box on the table and opened it, he was just as speechless as we were. After discussion, he asked us to keep it safely locked away while he made inquiries to determine who they should go to.

Said, meanwhile, had made a few calls of his own. Teddy was back the next day, a bemused look on his face.

"Well, my friends, it looks like you just became rather wealthy. After talking to the Kurdish council who are nominally in charge of that area, they have decided to give you a finder's fee as a thank you. It won't do you any good to argue, and it would offend them if you didn't take it. A representative will be here shortly, to take their share back. I imagine there will be some shiny new rifles in the hands of our friends very soon."

Two days later a man who looked like a larger version of Said showed up, looking uncomfortable in his suit. He was greeted warmly by Said, who had served under him for years. He was just as stunned as we were to see the cask.

We poured them out, and sorted them into piles, each jewel separate. Then we excused ourselves, except for Moshe and Said, who stayed to help divide them. Moshe had gotten hold of a set of scales from the chemistry department, to help determine carats. It took them ninety minutes to do the inventory.

When we came back the pile of gems was quite a bit smaller, but still looked pretty big to me. It was maybe one eighth of what they'd taken, but it was a still an impressive pile. They were for us, a gesture of thanks.

"How are we going to divide them?," Fatima asked.

"Easily," I said. "If the rest agree, we're going to leave it to you and Sherry. Divide them into seven groups, as equitably as possible. Then call us back in."

It took them an hour. Occasionally we'd hear loud voices. We went to lunch, bringing them something back. As they opened their plates, Sherry asked how we were going to determine who got which pile.

I grinned, and had Emil turn his back to the table and put my hand on a random pile.

"Who gets this one?" I asked.

"Sherry." I put her name on a piece of paper in front of it. We did the same thing until all the piles were named.

Then we just looked at them. "Now that that is settled, what do we do with them?"

Moshe looked at Emil and snorted. "We send them to my country. We practically invented the jewelry business. They will appraise them, store them, cut them if you want. I'm sure they would give you a good price if you wished to sell."